


At Each Other's Throats

by gaybreadstick



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angstshipping - Relationship, Deathshipping - Relationship - Freeform, Developing Relationship, Dubcon Affection, Eventual Indirect Conspireshipping, Fantasizing, Living Together, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Pining, Psychoshipping - Relationship - Freeform, Rating will change, Sexual Frustration, Tags will be added with chapter updates, The Yamis share their bodies with their hosts, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10885200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaybreadstick/pseuds/gaybreadstick
Summary: Marik and Ryou had recently moved in with together, but are finding that their alternate selves are getting restless constantly living in such close proximity to each other. Both are wary of the other, both have affections for each other's hosts, but neither want the other near their host.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A quick couple notes on this fanfiction so nobody is left in the dark:
> 
> ☆The Yamis share their bodies with their hosts, so Yami Marik and Marik are in one, Ryou and Bakura in another. Two bodies. That's it.  
> ☆This deviates from canon (obviously) and is set in a time where both are graduated from school (did Marik even _go_ to school...) Duel Monsters is still a thing but won't play a large role here.  
>  ☆Even though they live together, nobody has initiated a relationship with anyone (though one relationship is implied to have been already developing!)  
> ☆Yami Marik is referred to as "Marik" and "Yami Marik" instead of "Mariku". Don't worry, the writing is pretty darn clear who is who.  
> ☆Ryou is only referred to as "Ryou", Yami Bakura is referred to as "Bakura"
> 
> ☆ I don't write fanfiction! Ever! I don't write things, it just doesn't happen!! So, that said, this is my once-in-a-blue-moon fic that I'll be progressively updating as people bully me to do so. Comments and fanart always get chapters up faster, it just works that way for some reason.
> 
> ☆☆☆ Enjoy! ☆☆☆

The apartment was a comfortable mix of worn and ornate furniture with wooden floors and cream-coloured walls. Dark bookshelves lined the sides of the main room sporting fatigued tomes and novels and the odd knick-knack. A claw-footed coffee table rested ostentatiously in the center between the more modernized tv stand and the corner sofa. Though the table itself bore an air of class and elegance with the intricate carvings in its wooden surface, it was stripped of its regality by the unopened letters, wrappers and soda cans haphazardly strewn across its surface.

Perched in the corner of the couch with one knee drawn up to his chest was a white-haired boy. His overall appearance gave off a soft and inviting look, but the boy himself was not present. In his stead, a restless spirit that shared his body was in control. To his right sat his former partner in crime, happily tapping away on his phone.

It wasn't uncommon for him to find himself sitting on the sofa narrowly staring down Marik who seemed too immersed in his phone to notice.  
For months Bakura had been residing in the same living space as the former tomb keeper. Ryou had only vaguely mentioned that he would be moving in with Marik, and by proxy of sharing the same vessel so would the spirit, but Bakura paid him little heed on the forewarning. Instead he found himself waking up in a dark, strange bedroom that he didn't recognize by himself one day. Disoriented, Bakura had wandered around the new apartment warily for hours like a nervous cat until Marik had found him later that morning on the balcony.

He blinked away from the other now, turning a part of his attention to the background noise the television was providing. Some cartoon was on but neither were very dedicated on following the program. He sighed quietly to himself and reclined further into his corner.

Marik, who had been fidgeting with his phone wasn't actually focused on what was on the screen, or the television. He knew Bakura was watching him with deep skepticism. Each time the spirit finally broke his stare Marik's violet eyes would flick up to the white-haired vessel he occupied. He would scan the large tufts of pale hair that rose whenever the spirit was forward, waiting to see if he finally relinquished control to Ryou for the night. Seeing how they stayed erect, Marik assumed that Bakura was still on guard.  
He glanced back down to his phone.

" _I don't trust him,_ " a voice murmured in his ear.  
" _You don't trust anybody,_ " he replied curtly.  
" _He carelessly stabbed his own host's body._ "  
" _As if you wouldn't do the same?_ "  
" _That isn't the point._ "

Marik pursed his lips in thought. Not unlike Bakura and Ryou, he too had another that occupied the same body as his. This one however, was a wildly unpredictable identity that seldom rose to the front. Marik preferred it that way. He was uncertain of how Ryou managed to calm him enough to keep him at bay and out of trouble when he did appear, but he didn't want to place too much trust in his other self's newly adjusted disposition.

" _Marik._ "  
" _Hn?_ "  
" _You stopped answering._ "  
" _So what. He's harmless, you don't have to worry about him._ "  
" _You don't know that._ "  
" _Just as I don't know you won't impale Ryou at the first chance you get._ "  
" _Oh, I wouldn't dream of harming a hair on his head._ "  
Something about the way his other self cooed rubbed him the wrong way but he said nothing.  
_"Besides, I'm only looking out for my favorite dearest other self..._ "  
" _Be quiet._ "  
" _Tch, have it your way then._ " Yami Marik's voice huffed before vacating into the recesses of the dark.

__

Marik looked up again from his phone, meeting the darkened red eyes of Bakura on the other end once again.  
" _What_ ," he grit out.  
Bakura didn't reply, instead closing his eyes for a moment. Marik watched as the tufts of hair shrank back on the other boy's head. When he opened them again, his eyes appeared to light up when he looked at Marik.  
"Oh, Marik!"  
"Nice to see you back," a soft smile graced the former tomb keeper's face. At least Ryou was easier to communicate with than Bakura.  
"He's still staring, isn't he?" Ryou said sheepishly, a hand coming up to idly fiddle with a stray piece of hair.  
"Don't worry about it," Marik waved a hand nonchalantly. "He's probably mad that I look far better than he ever will."  
The white-haired boy let out a gentle laugh at that. The sofa emitted a small creak as he stood up. "I'm a bit hungry. I'll go whip up some dinner."

\- x -

The apartment had a dining table close to the tiny kitchen space, through neither Ryou or Marik found any real use for it. The only time the table was used was when Marik's family popped in to check on how they were doing, and even then those visits were few and far. Nonetheless, the tabletop had been amalgamated into a cluttered space forgotten in a corner where they could drop their belongings when they came home.  
The two of them silently agreed that eating on the couch was far more comfortable anyway, so the pair would eat most of their meals at the coffee table. Marik picked through his bowl of Kushari as Ryou speared a piece of chicken in his bowl of rice, chicken and sauce.

"So.." Ryou piped up, dragging Marik's attention away from the tv. "Why do you think he keeps staring?"  
"I think he and my other self are having a dick-measuring contest." Marik grinned into his food.  
Ryou snorted with a laugh at that. "That makes sense. They're both pretty dangerous."  
"Yeah, but I don't think they're going to do anything."  
"I kind of wish they'd just, y'know, interact and get it done and over with."  
"After what happened already between them? I don't think it'll happen."  
"At least they both gave us back some control over our bodies..." Ryou mused, prodding a clump of rice with his fork.  
"Yeah..." Marik frowned into his dish now.  
"Sorry."  
"No, it's fine." The golden-haired boy leaned back on the couch, setting his half-empty bowl on the table. "He always wants to come forward when you're around, though."  
Ryou looked over to Marik with a concerned gaze.  
"I'm nervous of letting him, but he's stronger than me and he knows it."  
"I don't mind when he comes forward," Ryou said softly. "It's not that, I'm just..." Marik trailed off for a moment and shook his head. "I just I'm worried he might hurt somebody..."

The boy in the blue and white striped shirt was about to say something as suddenly Marik's body lifted up and arched over his. Ryou clutched his bowl as Marik's face drew close. He could see the boy's third eye start to glow in the center of his forehead. Marik's hair flared up, doubling in size as he loomed over Ryou, who could do nothing but watch as the Egyptian's tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"But I _promise_ I would _never_ harm you, of course..." came the sultry tone of Marik's other self.  
"O-oh! Hello Marik," Ryou smiled nervously, reaching underneath the other's body to set his dinner on the table.  
"Mmm, it's nice to see you, _Cream Puff_."  
Ryou felt his face flush slightly at the nickname and tried to choke it down by clearing his throat. "Did you.. _want_ to see me?" He asked cautiously.  
Yami Marik's teeth emerged from behind his lips in two jagged rows that somehow seemed more feral despite sharing a single body with a far less intimidating self. He lowered himself over Ryou's lap lazily, making sure to emphasize his movements as Ryou's eyes followed the predatory ripple of Marik's muscles when he shifted.  
"I _always_ want to see you," he all but purred in Ryou's ear. The white-haired boy's face was starting to resemble the colour of a strawberry. He swallowed. Ryou could feel the tufts of hair his other self had start to twitch on his head irritably, as if Bakura was right there watching just behind him. Marik's tongue darted out again to languidly trace the shell of Ryou's ear.  
"A-ah, _Marik_!" Ryou scolded breathily.  
" _Yes_.. ?"  
"Stop that," he croaked. There was a moment of pause before teeth clamped hard onto the offended ear and Ryou let out a pained cry.  
Yami Marik chuckled darkly at his own disobedience, but it was short lived as a firm hand connected against his chest and sent him toppling backward over the coffee table. Ryou's bowl and fork clattered to the floor along with a half-full can of soda that recklessly spilled its contents over the floorboards.

Marik looked up from his position on the floor, legs still up on the table, with a wicked leer. Ryou stood up shakily from the couch, arms limp and forward before his shoulders rolled and he raised his head. The white tufts had risen and the disapproving glare of the ancient spirit was unmistakable.

Marik's leer fell into a deep scowl. "It's not polite to interrupt," he grit.  
"It's not polite," Bakura retorted, "To violate my host's body."  
"Oh, my mistake. I must have.. _misunderstood_ ," Marik smirked, looking up at the spirit from under hooded eyes.  
"Don't touch him."  
"Oh? A little _possessive_ are we?"  
"No," Bakura snarled, nose wrinkling at the accusation.  
"I think." Marik's grin returned to it's proud pedestal as he rose from the floor. Bakura watched him wearily as he stepped around the table and grabbed the front of the spirit's shirt "You're a little more than just _attached_ to your host."  
"I think you've overstayed your welcome." Bakura snarled, gripping Marik's wrist and wrenching it off of his clothing. He made to grab Marik but the other dodged him, instead grabbing hold of the spirit's shirt again and shoving him back onto the couch. The spirit cried out as Marik threw his weight onto him by straddling his hips to pin him down. Bakura cracked open his eyes at the sensation of something cold and metal pressing against his throat. A quick observation told him that Marik had swiped the fork off of the floor when he fell and was now keen on forcing it into Bakura's jugular.

Bakura let out a huff and glared up at the Egyptian. Marik merely gave him a corrupted smirk as he made himself comfortable.  
"You're really going to try and kill me with _this_ dulled piece of metal?" The spirit drawled.  
Marik's head reared back in laughter, offering Bakura the chance to grasp his neck with one clawed hand and throw him onto the floor between the table and the sofa. Marik let out a winded cough at the impact of his back crunching into the floor.  
Bakura was panting from the effort, glaring down at Marik's body that was now still. He leaned back into the couch and breathed as his hair fell, giving way to his host.

A loud, painful throbbing in his forehead greeted Ryou as he regained control of his body once more.  
"O-oh, my head," Ryou murmured as he ran a hand over his temple.  
" _Ngh_ -"  
Ryou looked over and noticed Marik laying on the ground in a puddle of soda.  
"Oh no.. Marik?" he murmured, peering over the edge of the couch.  
The glowing eye in the center of Marik's head almost appeared to pulse at the sound of his name. "Mm, _Cream Puff_.." Marik purred, eyes cracking open and immediately snatching Ryou's gaze.  
The Egyptian raised a hand and clawed at the fabric of the couch, groaning as he heaved himself up off the floor to sit next to the white-haired boy.  
"Marik, are you all right? Your clothes-" Ryou said, pointing to the now-stained shirt from the soda.  
"Oh? Are you _concerned_ for me?" he mused, leaning in close.  
"W-what? Oh!" The flush instantly returned to Ryou's face again. "N-no, well, _yes_ \-- but I- I was just worried that he, well.." Ryou couldn't seem to form a coherent string of words with Yami Marik looking at him like that. The way his eyes almost seemed to soften into an endearing gaze was captivating and it held him there. If it weren't for the glowing eye and wild unkempt hair, it would be difficult for Ryou to tell exactly _which_ Marik it was that was looking at him.

"Aw, I'm touched that you _care_ ," Marik hummed as he leaned a little further, pressing his nose against Ryou's cheek affectionately.  
Ryou flinched at the contact, not used to being touched in such a doting way. Marik seemed to take notice and chuckled.  
"Oh, don't worry. I promised I wouldn't harm you.." he murmured with a grin.  
Ryou swallowed, feeling Marik pull back and lift a hand to run through Ryou's hair. The white-haired boy caught his hand nervously, looking downward with an uncomfortable frown.  
Marik chuckled again. "He's still nearby, isn't he?"  
"... Yeah.." Ryou said quietly.  
"Hm, until later then," the Egyptian purred, retracting his hand and smiling at the other boy before closing his eyes and taking a deep sigh. His wild tangles of hair relaxed and lowered into his body's usual hairstyle as he eased back. The third eye closed as it faded into nothing, leaving no remnants of its presence where it had been in the center of Marik's forehead.  
When Marik opened his eyes again, it was his calmer, original self that was in control. He and Ryou met eyes, Ryou looking flustered and uncomfortable, Marik nervous and anticipating.

"He didn't-" Marik started.  
"No."  
"Are you okay?"  
"I'm all right," Ryou nodded, offering a small smile, grateful to have the regular, non-invasive Marik forward again.  
Marik let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh, good." He shifted on the sofa and paused, turning to look at his stained shirt. "Ahh- fuck," he grit out.  
"You better go throw that in the wash before it stains for good," Ryou offered with a small smile, moving to pick up his bowl off the floor.  
"Yeah," Marik agreed and stood, taking the hem of his shirt and lifting the fabric up over his head in one swift movement. Ryou's eyes immediately darted towards the exposed skin as Marik stretched, face turning it's bright colour again at the sight of Marik's torso. He had a perfect view. The sharp angles of Marik's hips, the way his shoulders rolled as he lifted his arms, the subtle shift of muscle over his stomach as he moved--  
Ryou forced his eyes back down to the bowl just before Marik could take notice, and sighed deeply with relief as the Egyptian walked around the couch and down the hall to where their bedrooms were.

His mind flickered to when Yami Marik had first greeted him earlier. The way he slid over Ryou like a predatory animal. How his fingers tensed over the back of the couch as he hunched over him, ready to bite into him with his ever-so-sharp fangs. Those violet eyes that glowered in the dim light, trained on him and _only_ him. Ryou never had anyone look at him with such intense, yet lasciviously scrutinizing eyes. Sure he had plenty of girls fawning after him when he was still in school, but nothing ever came of that. This... This was something much, much _more_ that. It turned his stomach into knots, his head into a dizzying spin, and the pit of his guts into an ignited heat he didn't know he could feel. His thoughts flicked to Marik down the hall. What would he look like towering over him like that..? He subconsciously bit his lip, unaware that the boy on his mind was walking back into the common area with a new shirt.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Marik questioned uneasily, a look of concern evident on his face.  
Ryou snapped out of his daydreaming, hastily picking up the bowl and soda can and setting them on the table before running off to the kitchen to grab a wet rag.  
"Fine! Just fine!" he managed.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryou stared at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom. The encounter he just had with Yami Marik was still fresh as ever in his head. All he could feel was his mind swimming and turning over at the sudden flux of emotions writhing within in him. Ryou could still sense Marik's darker self looming over him and straddling his hips, purring in his ear in a low, sultry tone. He clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned to himself. He hated the way he had gazed at Marik's muscles as they shifted his weight. He hated how much he loved the intensity of Marik's body heat as he drew in close. His mind flickered to the memory of Marik undressing in the living room earlier and he whined internally.

It wasn't as if Ryou had never seen Marik without a shirt. Albeit it didn't happen too often as Marik was still uneasy about others looking at his scars, but on particularly hot days indoors Marik seemed to timidly set his fears aside in favor of attempting to keep cool. Ryou didn't think much of the scars. In fact, found them quite fascinating, but he knew they were something Marik did not relish being burdened with so his fondness for them always went unmentioned. His mind pulled up the image of Marik's exposed torso again and his breath caught in his throat.

He remembered the way his body angled and arched with the stretch, arms above his head, chest and stomach available on display. Ryou bit his lip as he idly fiddled with the waistband of his boxers. He badly wanted to put his hands on him, feel every curve of muscle and the softness of his skin under his fingertips. He wanted to trace the outlines of Marik's scars and tell him how beautiful they were, even if he never believed him.  
The white-haired boy lifted his head, trying to listen for any sounds coming from the room across the hall that might imply Marik was still awake. The clock on his night table glowed a blue "3:05am", but Ryou had his doubts about his roommate's sleep patterns. After a moment of painful silence he concluded that his roommate was most likely asleep by now. Ryou let his head flop back onto the pillow and let out a sigh through his nose.

_Marik's darker self, though._

Ryou's mind changed direction, now focused on the sinister identity that resided within Marik's body. He looked up at the ceiling again, a jolt of heat surging through him.  
_"He's stronger than me..."_ Marik had said.  
He swallowed thickly. He knew what Marik's darker half was capable of. He knew Yami Marik had tried to murder people in the past, having been physically present during a few of those near-instances. Ryou shifted his weight on the mattress, hooking a finger into the waistband of his shorts and sliding them down until he could kick them off completely. His hand tensed against the bed sheets for a moment of brief hesitation before his hand found its way around his flaccid cock, thumbing the head as he let his mind wander.  
Ryou felt Marik's dark eyes on him again. Though not actually present, he could imagine the predatory gaze Yami Marik would be giving him right now. Those violet eyes fixated on him with a look of lewd intent. He gasped, free hand reaching out and fumbling for a drawer on the night stand as he gave his cock a quick stroke. Managing to pry open the drawer with a finger he snatched a bottle of lube from it and pulled his other hand back, cracking open the lid and dumping a small amount onto his palm.  
As his hand returned to its ministrations Ryou settled deeper into the mattress. His mind, now unrestrained, continued to run freely. He now imagined Yami Marik glowering down at him with a grin as he stroked him.  
" _You're being so good for me, aren't you,_ " Ryou imagined him saying.  
"A-ah," a quiet cry escaped him. He slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to prevent himself from accidentally waking up Marik in the next room.  
Ryou began to stroke himself faster now, feeling the heat beginning to build up.  
" _I wonder how fast I could make you finish... I bet it wouldn't take very long at all, would it? You're already so close..._ "  
"aH -- Ma-arik," Ryou mewled between breathy pants.  
" _Look at him, already wet and aching for us,_ "  
Ryou felt another spark of heat bolt through him as he pictured Marik's host self leaning into the crook of his neck, giving it a small nip as Yami Marik continued to pump him.  
" _I-_ " Ryou gasped in his fantasy.  
" _Was is it? What do you want?_ " Yami Marik purred.  
"I- want you- to-- aaH,"  
"Say it,"  
Ryou's eyes shot open, suddenly aware that the voice he thought he was imagining, was not imaginary but rather a very haggard, very nude Yami Marik draped over his body on all fours. Ryou had been so taken with his fantasy that he didn't even hear him enter the room.  
"M-marik!" Ryou exclaimed, hands grasping the sheets and attempting to wrench them up to cover himself.  
"Oh, so shy all of a sudden?" he mused, leaning back onto his haunches. The third eye glowed softly in the darkness but Ryou couldn't help but feel that it too was staring him down.  
"Not shy, just..." Ryou fumbled, legs closing together so as to prevent Marik from getting an eyeful of his swollen cock.  
"Mhm," Marik chuckled darkly. He raised a hand, fingers twiddling in the dark before they came to rest on one of Ryou's knees. "I've been thinking about you since earlier."  
"O-oh?" Ryou stammered, sitting up in his bed and inching back towards the wall.  
"Indeed," Marik said, leaning closer. "Seems like you've been thinking the same."  
Ryou felt his cheeks flush. Even though it was dark, he swore Marik could see it plain as day on his face.  
"Don't be _embarrassed_..." The Egyptian leaned over Ryou's form again, closing in to bite Ryou's collarbone before letting his tongue sweep across the mark it left. Ryou gasped and squirmed.  
"Marik!" he cried out, shoving him back with both hands.  
Both of them paused now as Marik lazily leaned back, giving Ryou some room.  
"Do you not want this?" came Marik's low voice.  
Ryou shuddered. In his mind he swore he could hear a cacophony of "I want this! Yes! I do!" but he gathered himself and forced those traitorous thoughts to the side. He had never been intimate with anyone and if he was honest with himself, the thought of being intimate with Marik's malevolent side was just as terrifying as it was exciting. He looked up at Marik and swallowed.  
"I want this, but..." he trailed off, suddenly aware at how firmly he was clutching the bed underneath him.  
Marik's head lifted as he smirked. He came in close a final time, hand wrapped around the back of Ryou's head and pushed it forward so that Marik could place a gentle kiss on his forehead.  
"I will respect your wishes."  
That made Ryou's eyes flare open wide with disbelief. He immediately looked up at the other, eyes owlish.  
Marik seemed to read Ryou's mind. "I was created from Marik's suffering. I have slain and let blood shed through my fingers without so much as a second thought. For some reason, however, I do not wish to do that to you..." he trailed off, eyes suddenly scanning Ryou suspiciously, as if he too was confused as to why he did not want to inflict any sort of terror or pain upon him.

The Egyptian made to move again, but as soon as he rose he was abruptly thrown onto the floor.  
"What are you doing in here?!" a raspy snarl cut the air as Ryou's hair stood on end, announcing Bakura's presence.  
"Interrupting _again_ , are we," Marik bristled, glaring up at the white-haired spirit.  
"What are you doing in my host's room," Bakura repeated, this time with a low growl.  
"Why are you so concerned about _that_ when you have other things you may want to be concerned about?" the other snorted, sitting up on the floor with a feline grin.  
Bakura stalled for a moment, taken off guard until the senses of his body finally registered in his brain. A deep throb through his cock made the hairs on the back of Bakura's neck stand on end.  
"What were you doing to him," hissed Bakura.  
"It wasn't what _I_ was doing," Marik hummed in mock-innocence.  
"I don't think he'd spare you so much as a thought."  
"Maybe you don't know your landlord very well, then."  
Bakura clenched his teeth and scowled as Marik moved closer to the spirit, close enough that the two of them were almost nose to nose.  
"I suppose I don't know _you_ very well," said the Egyptian, running a hand down through the other boy's pale hair before clawing his hand around his throat. "But I do know that I could do without your presence."  
Bakura grunted as he was hoisted up.  
"It's a shame you and him share the same body. I'd adore nothing more than putting a knife between those eyes of yours." Marik said, locking glares with Bakura.  
"And I'd love nothing more than to send you back to the shadows." The spirit stared defiantly back, frown firmly locked in place. The pair remained there for a moment before Marik finally let out a snort. With a quick flash a grin, he let his body go limp and relinquished control to his host. Startled at the abrupt give, Bakura fumbled to steady Marik's body before he collapsed on top of him entirely.  
It was mere seconds before Marik's hair relaxed again and Bakura was met with the groggy minded even-tempered Marik.  
The Egyptian rubbed his forehead where his other self's third eye had been, groaning. "Ugh, what happene-"  
Bakura blinked as he heard Marik trail off, only to realize what exactly was in Marik's line of sight where his head was positioned. Marik was getting a perfect view of the now-painful erection Bakura had that was tortuously ebbing. The spirit groaned inwardly as Marik lifted his gaze, swallowing as they locked eyes.  
"Bakura." It wasn't as much of a question as it was a statement.  
"What," replied the spirit with a hint of anger.  
"You're-"  
"Yes, I know."  
"And I'm-"  
"Yes."  
"How did-"  
" _Do not ask._ "  
Marik pushed off of Bakura hesitantly, trying to keep his eyes above an invisible line he drew on Bakura's chest. The spirit gave him a confused glance, hands lingering in midair for a moment where they had been around Marik.  
"I'll uh-" the former tomb keeper started, pointing towards the bedroom door as he made his way towards it.  
"Marik-" the spirit called out quietly.  
"I'm just going to go to bed." The way Marik said it gave no room for negotiation or talking. He pulled open the already ajar door. "Sorry," he offered.  
"Hmph," Bakura snorted through his nose, glaring off to the side with a dejected look that Marik didn't see.  
"Night." Marik said tightly before slipping out the door and closing it with a click, leaving Bakura alone to fend for himself.


End file.
